


the fight that calls

by QueenOfCarrotFlowers



Series: Carrot's Canonverse Fics [20]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Force Awakens
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternative ending to The Force Awakens, Chewbacca appears briefly, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Multi, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, POV Multiple, Polyamorous Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:42:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23553238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfCarrotFlowers/pseuds/QueenOfCarrotFlowers
Summary: Rey and Finn are both alphas, and Kylo Ren is an omega. When the three of them meet on Starkiller Base, triggering Kylo's heat, it goes exactly as you would expect it to go.
Relationships: Finn/Kylo Ren/Rey, Finn/Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: Carrot's Canonverse Fics [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1801360
Comments: 8
Kudos: 43
Collections: Queerly Beloved Reylo Fics, Star Wars Big Bang 2020





	the fight that calls

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Fight That Calls](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23779831) by [Jessa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jessa/pseuds/Jessa). 



> Thank you to myurbandream and flypaper_brain for the beta, this fic owes so much to your input and support, and thanks to Jessa for the gorgeous art embedded in the story. I couldn't have done this without you guys! 💕

Kylo Ren waited for the other two in the frigid darkness of the ridge. He’d taken the underground passage to ensure that he would get there first; once the explosions started, he knew they wouldn’t be far behind him.

The Scavenger and the Traitor. 

They were responsible here. They’d brought him here—Han Solo, it was _them_. And once Han Solo was there, Kylo had no choice but to kill him. If they hadn’t brought him, Kylo wouldn’t have killed him and he wouldn’t be dead. It was _their_ fault that Kylo had killed Han Solo—killed his father—and hot anger filled his limbs as he dwelled on that truth.

But there was a silver lining. He would face them down together, destroy them both, and then he could finally take his rightful place at the right hand of Supreme Leader Snoke. It wouldn't replace his father, but it was something.

He’d met the Scavenger only a few hours before. Gathered her up on the surface of Takodana and taken her here, to Starkiller. He’d strapped her into a chair with the intention of dragging the map to Luke Skywalker out of the depths of her mind, but it hadn’t worked out exactly as he’d planned. He allowed his mind to wander as he waited in the dark chill of the forest.

Strapped in the interrogation chair, she had been distracting. Her scent, first. She was an alpha. Suppressed, but not very well, with cheap synthetic suppressants that barely hid her aroma. She smelled like water—deep water, rich with seaweed, which was strange considering she came from Jakku. But sometimes it just worked like that. 

Kylo, an omega, had always been well-suppressed and had never responded to an alpha before, not really, but there was something about her that felt different to him. It wasn't enough to send him into heat, but it was interesting. Her scent was part of it, but that wasn’t the only thing. The other part he discovered as he attempted to interrogate her. He ransacked her memories—only gently, because for some reason he didn’t want to hurt her—but then when he pushed in to finally look for the map, she _pushed back_. And she pushed harder, she pushed all the way into _his_ mind to see _his_ thoughts and _his_ memories. She’d seen him, she’d seen so much of him, and the thing that she pulled out was the most painful thing she could have chosen.

“You, you’re afraid,” she snarled, “that you will never be as strong as Darth Vader!”

She’d hurled the declaration across the space and it had rent his heart like a knife.

He’d run away, with both the accusation and her lingering scent trailing behind him.

* * *

Rey was afraid of Kylo Ren. He’d chased her into the forest on Takodana, deflected her blaster shots with his angry red saber, and then held her hostage with the Force. His voice was cold and mechanical behind the chrome mask, but his scent… his scent was something else. He was an omega, which surprised her, and although he was well-suppressed his aroma drifted to her, tickled her nostrils when he stood close. He smelled sweet. She wished she knew what flowers smelled like, because she was certain that he smelled like one. Perhaps several. It was a delicious scent, and it made her mouth water.

There were no flowers on Jakku, no fresh ones anyway, only the dry one she’d found tucked into the control panel of a crashed TIE fighter, and it smelled like everything else on the planet—of sand and sweat and hot metal. Rey had presented as an alpha at the age of fourteen, when she'd caught a whiff of a smuggler who'd stopped to refuel before taking off to have her heat in space. The woman hadn't appreciated the feral child who knocked her down and tried to bite her neck, and her husband had appreciated it even less. Rey had been lucky to escape with her life and five days in the cooling cell. After that she'd traded for suppressants when she could, stolen them when she couldn't. Once she'd found a full stock of them—industrial strength—in the medbay of the carcass of one of the Star Destroyers; she’d sold the omega hormones and enjoyed two full years of blessed suppression before she’d run out. That had been well over two years ago, and now she was back to getting what she could or going without. Humans on Jakku were few and far between so it wasn’t something she had to deal with a lot, but the past two days were a reminder of just how painful it could be.

Finn had smelled interesting; good, savory and sweet—like something you might want to take your time eating. But he was also an alpha, and although he smelled nice it didn’t do anything for Rey, so aside from taking surreptitious sniffs when she was close enough to do so, she didn’t really think much more of it. But Kylo Ren, this was something different. Sweet and oddly fresh, his scent wound around something deep inside her, made her feel warm. But it didn’t erase the fear, and it didn’t keep him from making her a prisoner.

One moment they were together in the forest, and the next moment everything had gone dark, and when she woke up she was strapped to a chair, and he was there again. In the closed space of the cell his scent was even stronger, and when he removed his helmet to reveal a surprisingly young face she’d had to work to hide her shock. His hair was so dark and thick and beautiful that she briefly yearned to press her fingers in it, bring it to her nose and inhale the sweet aroma of his flowers. It was ridiculous, and very quickly she had more important things to worry about because he was inside her head.

“I see it,” he said, his face close, breath warm across her cheek, threads pricking into her mind. “I see the island. And Han Solo. You feel like he was the father you never had. He would have disappointed you.” But the island was _hers_ , it wasn’t for anyone else, and Han Solo was hers too. Hers, not Kylo Ren’s. With a strength and a power she didn’t know she had, Rey grasped those threads, twisted them, and sent them back to him.

And then, it was her turn. 

* * *

_Loneliness. Fear. Pain. Painful heats alone, with only a droid for support. He longs for warm hands and a soft voice, but any of that is long gone. Gone since they sent him away. No family. **No family**_.

Rey shivered in solidarity. She knew what that was like, wanting a family and not having one, and unbidden her heart felt for Kylo Ren.

There is more. 

_The Dark calls, and the Light. The voices in his head—needling, seductive—and one voice over all of them. Family. Another opportunity. The only family he tells himself he wants. That’s it, the most important thing._

She grasps that thread and tugs and pulls and there it is _… **there**._

She pushed and struggled and when she saw exactly what she needed she wrapped those threads and shoved them right back at him.

“You,” she snarled. “You’re afraid! That you will never be as strong as Darth Vader.”

Without a word Kylo Ren released her from his hold with a shocked gasp and ran out the door, leaving her alone with only a Stormtrooper to guard her.

* * *

How had she done it?

_How had she done it?_

The Scavenger was clearly much more than a Scavenger. She was Force-sensitive, untrained but strong. She could be trained, though. She could be his student; he could be her teacher. He could teach her, be close to her. She smelled like the sea and even as heavily suppressed as he was, he wanted to swim in her. Not the thing he should have been thinking about along with everything else, but it was more calm there than anywhere else, so as Kylo Ren made his way towards Snoke’s virtual audience chamber he allowed his mind to settle on it.

Kylo Ren was on the highest-quality suppressants. They all were—every alpha and omega in the First Order—because they had to be able to maintain order, and you couldn’t maintain order if people were slipping into heats and ruts left and right. The suppressants were highly regimented, and their heats and ruts were scheduled, and were assisted by droids. Never by other sentients. 

Kylo had been on suppressants before that, of course. Back when he… before he’d joined the First Order. As soon as he’d presented as an omega at the age of ten his mother had sat him down and given him The Talk. She’d explained, her arm soft and warm around his shoulder as he sat on the edge of the bed in his bedroom on Chandrila, his luggage for going to stay with his Uncle Luke already half-packed, that he would need to have an injection every month to keep his hormones in check. Once a year he would not get the injection and his body would be allowed to go into heat, taking its normal course. He would have a special droid that would help, she said, although he had a limited idea of what that meant. His father, who was also an omega, didn’t have a special droid. He did know that once a year his parents would take a special vacation for a week or so, they would go far away and leave him with someone else, and when they got back they would be especially loving for another week or so before everything reverted to the usual. He figured it was because of his dad’s heat, but he still didn’t know exactly what that meant.

He’d figured it out soon enough, sweating and crying in the Heat Hut, set far on one edge of Uncle’s Jedi academy—the Rut Hut was all the way on the other side of the campus, for which Kylo had been immensely thankful. The droid worked well enough, it manipulated his body the way it needed to be manipulated to get through the worst of it, and that was fine. He did wish sometimes, after another painful orgasm had passed and the slick and cum had been vacuumed up… he did wish that he had someone to hold his hand, to kiss his forehead and tell him it would be all right. Someone to hold him while he slept. It was all he wanted, really. 

Someday, he had promised himself as he drifted off to sleep, all alone aside from a cold and loveless droid in the Heat Hut on the edge of the academy grounds. Someday I will have someone to hold me the way my mother held my dad.

But someday hadn’t come. He’d left the academy and joined the First Order and taken on a new name and a new suppressant regimen, but the basics hadn’t changed, and once a year he still spent a week by himself being milked by droids and wishing someone could just be there to smooth his hair back and whisper in his ear and stroke his heated skin. But Snoke would never allow it, and he was afraid of going against Snoke, so he never even tried an alternative. And it was fine—it really was—until the day he was walking the halls of the Starkiller Base with Captain Phasma and came across a stormtrooper.

* * *

Construction left a layer of dust everywhere, and FN-2187 was assigned to mopping duty. FN-3761 was with him, wetvac in hand, and there was something about the situation—out of armor, just the two of them, the comfort of being with a friendly colleague—that put FN-2187 in a good mood. He was getting the job done, sure, but he was determined to have fun doing it. 

“Prepare for annihilation,” he whispered, sweeping the wet mop across the dusty floor in a small circle. “You cannot withstand this awesome power. Fear…” he angled the mop up, flinging it into the air with a splash and a cry, “FEAR MY MOP!”

“Shhhh,” FN-3761 glanced over from where he was busy with the vacuum. 

“What? I’m destroying grime.”

“I don’t think we’re allowed to enjoy this, FN-2187,” there was a warning in his voice, but FN-2187 was inclined to ignore him and continue having his fun, until, “Woah,” the other ‘trooper muttered below his breath.

“What is it?” FN-2187 asked, glancing at him over his shoulder—and then past him, at the two figures treading up the hallway towards them.

“Captain Phasma,” FN-3761 replied, a slight note of hysteria beginning to enter his voice. “She’s coming this way. With _Kylo Ren_.”

Captain Phasma was the head of their unit and a known entity; Kylo Ren was Master of the Knights of Ren and, from everything FN-2187 had heard about him, a right lunatic—a right _Force-sensitive_ lunatic. He was eight feet tall and dressed in black and always wore a mask. He carried a lightsaber—one of the old Sith weapons—which crackled when he turned it on, and which he had been known to use to destroy whole rooms full of equipment. Kylo Ren was kriffing frightening. FN-2187 had only ever seen him from afar, and he was not ready to be inspected by him in person. And now that it was about to happen, he had to deal with this _kriffing mop_.

“What do I do, FN- 3761?”

“Huh?”

“ _The mop_. Do I hold it, or—”

“ _ATTENTION!_ ” Captain Phasma’s modulated voice cut through the silence, and on instinct FN-2187 stood up straight and brought the mop up to his shoulder, where he felt it immediately drip onto his uniform. _Kriff_.

Without warning, Kylo Ren was there, right in FN-2187’s face—and he smelled good. The Stormtroopers who presented were suppressed to the hilt—FN-2187 had presented early in puberty, but his own designation was a mystery to him. He’d never had a heat, or a rut, he didn’t even know what those were precisely, just that they were to be avoided and that when one of the ‘troopers managed to break through suppression they would be taken away and never seen again. So he was glad to not know, to keep it locked away with weekly IVs and a little pill every morning with his breakfast. But he had a nose, he could still smell, and he thought Kylo Ren smelled nice, like the little flowers he’d gathered one relatively lazy afternoon during a mission on Corellia. He’d almost been caught goofing off, but had somehow managed to smuggle a handful of flowers back into the base, and he’d hidden them away until they had dried into dust. They weren't beautiful but they smelled sweet. Kylo Ren smelled sweet too. It was a strange kind of dichotomy, the tall, black-clad man with the chrome mask, leaning into FN-2187’s face and smelling of flowers.

The exchange only lasted a couple of moments, and Kylo Ren left as quickly as he’d arrived, continuing down the hall without a single word. Captain Phasma had taken FN-2187 to task for standing at attention with his mop, but the ‘trooper couldn’t bring himself to care too much. He went about his day—it was an exciting day, and he didn’t think about Kylo Ren again until many hours later, when he stripped himself out of his armor and launched himself, exhausted, into his bunk.

That night, FN-2187 dreamed of flowers.

A year later, FN-2187 was on Jakku, and he smelled those sweet flowers again when Kylo Ren stared at him through his chrome mask across the battleground and just left him there, even though he was certain that the other man knew that he was planning to leave, that he would not be shooting his blaster that night. And then hours later he was Finn, and he met Rey on Jakku. He noticed her scent, too, when he grabbed her hand and she pulled away, incensed; she smelled salty and wet and fresh, and for the second time in his life Finn thought that maybe there’s something to this whole alpha and omega thing after all. But it didn’t flip any switch in him, simply wound around something deep inside him and sat there, as though it was waiting. And Finn didn’t have time to think about it anyway, everything happened so quickly… from Jakku to Han Solo and Chewie to Maz to the Resistance and back to Starkiller. Memories of Kylo Ren’s flowers, never too far down, breached the surface on Takodana and again in the bowels of Starkiller. The terrible, horrible, frightening, sweet-smelling man who tortured his friends and murdered Han Solo in cold blood.

And finally Kylo Ren was there, waiting for Finn and Rey in the cold darkness of the forest, while the X-Wings screamed behind them and Finn’s hands and heart froze with fear—and something else.

* * *

Rey and Finn reached the top of the hill and ran in the direction that Finn insisted would lead them to the _Falcon_ , but instead they came face-to-face with Kylo Ren, and his spitting, angry lightsaber.

As they slowly stepped closer to the black-clad man—unmasked, as he’d been on the bridge, when he struck down Han Solo—Rey could feel him in the Force again, a swirling, churning, almost painful tangle of dark and light together, and she could smell him. That sweet scent, flowers and sunlight, blown towards them on the chilly breeze. But this time Finn was with her, carrying his own sweetness, and the savory aroma that was almost enough to make her mouth water. When she scented the two of them together it was like something else entirely, and it made her toes curl and cold water spill down her back; it made her want to rush to Kylo Ren, to tackle him and hold him down and bite his skin and make him her own. 

Finn smelled it too, but unlike Rey he had no basis for comparison; he had no idea what was happening. The warmth that had been wound around inside him since he met Rey bloomed to life like a flower in his belly, turned from warm to hot, the cool wetness of Rey splashing against the sweetness of Kylo Ren and bursting into flame. He itched, his neck itched and his head pounded and his cock sprung to life and he had no idea why. Kylo Ren was there, waving around his lightsaber and baring his teeth, and Finn was afraid and so very angry. Finn wanted to kill Kylo Ren, but he also wanted to do something else to him and he didn’t understand what or why.

Kylo Ren was ready to fight. He felt the Scavenger’s approach in the Force, and the Traitor’s too, their signatures dancing together, a sweet harmony that he could feel in his gut. He yearned for it, and hated it. 

“We’re not done yet,” he called across to the other two. But even as he drew in breath to form his words, he smelled them. He’d scented them before, the delicious pungency of the Traitor and the fresh ocean breeze of the Scavenger, but although they had been delightful separate, together they were altogether something else. Kylo Ren’s ears buzzed and his skin itched, and he was hot—so very, very hot. His eyes watered and he could feel the slick, too, which made his cheeks slide together in his trousers. He didn’t understand why, though, why he might be going into heat _now_. He’d scented both of them before and it hadn’t done a thing, and now that it was clearly doing something, it only served to make him more angry. They’d made him kill his dad.

“Kylo Ren,” Rey said. She had an inkling of what might be happening, and if she was right she needed to calm him down immediately. “Kylo, we need to-”

“It’s just us now!” He interrupted her, trying his best to ignore the heat and itchiness of his skin. Her voice was everything he wanted to hear and he hated it. His _dad_. “Han Solo can’t save you!” He was too distracted—by the scents and the itching and the slick and his _dad_ —so in an attempt to center himself he took the fist of his free hand and used it to punch the injury in his side, the one caused when Chewie shot him with his bowcaster. He barely felt it as dark red droplets of blood dripped out of his body and landed hot in the snow.

The Force buzzed and Rey's senses burned and she wanted to take Kylo far away and take care of him, if he would let her. He was bleeding, bright red drops in the white snow visible even in the dark. He was bleeding and he needed her, even if he didn’t want her. He must let her take care of him, she would find a way to convince him.

She took a step towards him. "Kylo, _please_ -"

But she didn't finish whatever it was she was going to say. With a cry and a wave of his hand Kylo used the Force to throw Rey back and up, where she knocked against the side of a tree, and fell, limp and sprawling, to the ground. That felt terrible, worse than punching his wound, worse than the itching, and he regretted it briefly but he didn’t have time to contemplate because the Traitor was with her, cradling her in his arms and calling her name, and for a brief moment Kylo wanted to be her. He wanted the Traitor to hold him close and rock him, to whisper his name and wipe his tears; he wanted the Traitor to peel off his dripping trousers and make the itching stop, make the pain go away and replace it with sweet belonging.

Kylo wanted it, and he hated that, too.

He stalked up behind them, and brandished his lightsaber, taking pleasure in the sound it made as its blade cut through the air. He was itchy and hurt and he _wanted_ , so badly, and it made him furious. But that was good, he reminded himself, he could channel that pain to pull him to the dark, make himself more powerful. He could use it to dispatch the Traitor, and then he could take the Scavenger as his prisoner and she could stroke his face and tell him he was good. _No_. He could take her prisoner and convince her to be his student. He could teach her about the Force. He _could_.

Finn kneeled in the snow, holding Rey in his arms and trying not to panic. Her scent floated around him like water, and it helped to keep him calm. He could smell Kylo Ren behind him, too; his odor, still as sweet and delightful as a summer garden, made Finn feel something else, something that wasn’t calm at all.

“Traitor!” Kylo screamed, and that was enough for Finn. He grabbed Rey’s lightsaber, held it up, and turned around to face Kylo Ren. When he turned it on the blue blade illuminated the space around him, and he could see his own scowl reflected on the other man’s face, a shadow of crimson fire from his own blade.

Kylo Ren pointed his lightsaber at Finn and growled. “That lightsaber! It belongs to me!”

Finn, feeling courage unlike any he’d felt before, answered him in kind. “Come get it!” And without another thought he howled and threw himself at Kylo Ren.

The Traitor’s attack was a surprise, but even though he was feeling very strange, Kylo was ready for it. He parried the initial assault easily, and immediately went on the offensive. But he could tell that he was weaker than usual, was pulling back when he should have been pushing forward, and the worst part was that he knew why. The Traitor smelled good, he smelled _so good_ , and every part of Kylo that wasn’t angry was urging him to back away, to fall to his knees and ask for forgiveness. So Kylo struck again and again, punching his side when he could, although it didn’t seem to have any effect now, and as the seconds passed he could feel his strength and inclination to fight wane. The Force was pulling him and the combined scents of the Traitor and the Scavenger were pulling him, slick was running down his legs, his skin itched and he _hurt_. Eventually the Traitor pushed him up against a tree, the blue saber pressed close to his throat.

“Yield,” Finn said, putting as much authority into his voice as he could. To his complete and utter surprise, Kylo Ren extinguished his lightsaber, which fell from his hand and landed in the snow. In the cold blue light of his own saber Finn could finally see the other man’s face. He looked miserable; tears stained his cheeks, and his eyes were red and puffy from crying. Without understanding why, Finn turned off the saber, threw it aside, and put his arms around Kylo Ren’s shoulders. Kylo collapsed against him, and they sprawled together on the cold, hard ground.

* * *

Rey opened her eyes, although she hadn’t been asleep. Where was she? She was cold, and it was dark. But she could hear noises—voices, and the sound of lightsabers, a sound she was only just becoming familiar with. She turned her head to see lights, a bit far away, between the trees. Blue light and red. With a shock she realized what it was—it was Kylo Ren and Finn, and they were fighting. Her heart bloomed with warmth; Finn had taken her lightsaber and was fighting Kylo Ren with it. Then she remembered the last thing that had happened before she’d been thrown up into the air, cast against a tree—she remembered how the two men had smelled, Finn’s delicious savour and Kylo Ren’s sweet flowers, how the Force had buzzed around them, how she’d just wanted to get Kylo to _stop_ , to _listen_ , because she knew what was happening, she knew…

“Kriff,” she muttered, stumbling to her feet at the same time that the men fell to the ground.

Finn didn’t understand why his first impulse, after falling down with Kylo Ren on top of him, wasn’t to immediately push the man off and run away. No; instead he laid there for a few moments, running his fingers through Kylo’s hair. It was thick, and surprisingly soft, although it was slightly tangled, so his fingers kept getting caught up in small knots. He pushed through them gently, being careful not to pull too hard. He didn’t want to hurt him, didn’t want to cause him pain. Kylo Ren was _his_ , this man on the ground, and it was Finn’s responsibility to take care of him. He smelled good, so good; a healthy scent, sweet growing things, and the other scent with it—rivers and oceans and rain, water to make the flowers grow. That was Rey. 

_Rey_.

“Finn, get up. Are you okay? Is he okay?”

Finn grinned up at her, squeezing a handful of Kylo Ren’s hair in his fist. Finn looked delighted, and he smelled delightful. They both did, and the Force buzzed around them with the rightness of their connection. Rey longed to lie down next to them, to take a fistful of Kylo Ren’s hair for herself, to nuzzle her face into his neck and lick his scent glands. The man in question was sprawled in the snow, half on top of Finn, and was rubbing his face against Finn’s chest, apparently completely indifferent to the cold. His trousers were soaked, and she could tell from the musky odor that permeated the air that it wasn’t from the snow. A sharp spike of desire shot through her core. He needed to be warm, and he needed to be knotted. He needed to be taken care of, and Rey knew that only she and Finn could do it. 

“Finn, come _on_ ,” she insisted, and grabbed his arm in an attempt to pull him up. He growled, teeth bared, and she couldn’t stop herself from growling back. But then he looked at her again and seemed to realize it was her, and his face relaxed into a confused grin.

“Rey,” he said, “Rey, I don’t understand. I hate him but I also kind of want to eat him right now. I don’t mean—”

“I know what you mean,” she interrupted him. “I know exactly what you mean.”

“But what’s happening? Why didn’t he kill me?” He gazed back down at Kylo Ren, who by this point had found the opening at the front of Finn’s jacket and was sucking on the fabric of his shirt. Finn pointed at him, but his gesture turned into a caress against Kylo Ren’s cheek. Kylo moaned, his eyes closed, face screwed up as though he was in pain. He was probably in pain. “Why am I okay with this? I really like it. Maybe if I…” He reached for the bottom edge of his shirt, as though to pull it up and expose the skin of his torso to Kylo’s mouth, and that’s when the first giant explosion shook the earth.

“Finn, Kylo is in heat, and you’re about to go into rut. So am I.” Even as she said it a cramp wracked her, doubling her over with dull pain, and a gush of warmth rolled down her thigh. _Great_. “And it sounds like the bombing run was successful. We have to get out of here _now_.”

Finn was just lucid enough to understand that _the planet is about to explode and we don’t want to be here when it does_ was actually a very good argument for standing up, so he grabbed Kylo and tried to pull him up with him. He felt so strange, everything smelled wonderful. He was sore and he itched, all his skin itched but especially his neck. 

“Come on, Kylo,” he murmured, pulling the other man to standing, with Rey’s assistance. Kylo wobbled on his feet, he was all wet and Finn could tell that he had an erection, it was straining against the front of his trousers, but instead of feeling disgusted Finn was aroused. He looked down at the front of his own trousers to see that he, too, was very hard.

“Oh,” he said to nobody in particular. “Gosh.” 

Kylo was dimly aware that things were happening. He’d fallen down on top of the Traitor, and that had been surprisingly nice. The Traitor smelled good, like something tasty—something Kylo wanted to lick and suck and chew and swallow—and he was warm, and he’d stroked Kylo’s hair so nicely, and stroked his cheek, too. His mother had done that, when he was a baby, and his dad—his _dad_ , oh god he’d killed his dad—he had done it too, but that had been so long ago. It was nice to be touched. Especially by the Traitor. His logical brain was screaming, that he needed to _kill the Traitor_ , to run away and save himself, to find somewhere quiet to mourn his dad, but the rest of his brain—that is, most of it—was telling him something else entirely.

The Scavenger, apparently, had a different idea, because she grabbed his arm that the Traitor wasn’t already clutching and pulled him through the snow. 

“Come on, Kylo,” she said, giving his elbow a tug. “We’re going to take care of you, I promise, but you need to come with us.” Her voice was perfect, soft but commanding, and he wanted to do whatever she told him. He wanted to please her, very badly, and if following her would make her happy he would do it. As he shuffled forward, following her with the Traitor alongside, he wondered again exactly what was going on. The feeling was familiar, although the context was different. What was it?

Kylo Ren shuddered to a stop at Finn’s side. Rey, frustrated, turned back to face them, but Finn was focused on Kylo. Kylo stared down at Finn, tears forming in his eyes as his mouth twisted uncomfortably. On instinct Finn reached his hand up and placed his palm against Kylo Ren’s cheek, and he calmed immediately. Rey huffed and stomped her feet, but Finn ignored her. Something about the situation made Finn’s mind suddenly clear.

“What is it, Kylo. Are you okay? I know you’re hurt, we’ll be on the _Falcon_ soon and then we can take care of you. Just walk with us, we’re almost there.”

“I’m going into heat,” Kylo Ren whispered, almost too softly for Finn to hear him, the first tears escaping down his cheek. “I’m going into heat, I need a droid. Do you have a droid?”

“No droids,” Finn said. The thought of a droid being anywhere near Kylo right now made Finn’s stomach churn, although he couldn’t explain why or what exactly he and Rey were going to do to help him. He just knew that droids wouldn’t be involved. He expected this information to help, but Kylo cried harder. Finn didn’t understand why, and he also didn’t understand why Kylo’s agitation bothered him so much. But he didn’t have time to consider it because the ground was shaking harder and Rey was pulling them towards a bright light that appeared suddenly though the trees.

“It’s the _Falcon_ ,” she yelled, moving behind the other two and pushing them towards the light. “Come on, we need to do this soon.”

Finn didn’t have time to ask what she meant before the hatch opened and they all clambered up the ramp.

* * *

Chewbacca was glad to see Rey and Finn alive, and he shouted to them in joy until he saw who they’d brought with them. 

_Ben_. The cub. Whom Chewie had just watched kill Han Solo. His best friend, the cub’s own father.

Chewie stood back as the three humans stumbled past him and into the main crew quarters. He shut the door behind them and ran to the cockpit. He was burning with curiosity and not a little bit of anger, but the first order of business was to get them off this rock.

He didn’t wait for Rey to join him; instead he took matters into his own hands and directed the _Falcon_ back up into the sky to join the other Resistance ships waiting there. And just in time, too—as they hit hyperspace the planet exploded behind them. There would be nothing left.

Chewie sat back with a sigh, taking just a moment to relax before going to see what the others were up to. They’d looked exhausted, staggering up the ramp, and they’d smelled…

_Oh._

He knew what it was. It was the scent of human omega in heat—familiar from times long past, when Han and Leia would spend days in the bunkroom while he listened to loud music in the cockpit. It wasn’t something that Chewie was particularly looking forward to revisiting, so he shut the door to the cockpit and sat back down in the captain’s chair, letting the blue light of hyperspace wash over him. Hopefully the soundsystem still worked. Hopefully the last person to own this thing had decent taste in music. It was going to be a long trip. 

* * *

Back out in the main crew quarters, Rey was doing her very best to handle the situation, but it was difficult. Kylo Ren was a whiney, sobbing mess, and Finn still hadn’t quite figured out what he was supposed to be doing, even though she’d told him several times that Kylo Ren was in heat and he was going to go into rut. She was beginning to think that Stormtroopers didn’t know anything about heats and ruts at all. 

She could feel her own rut approaching fast—the overwhelming protectiveness, the desire to wrap Kylo in her arms and wipe his tears and impale herself on his cock until her knot grabbed him and held him close. It was strange that she was thinking of Finn as a partner in this instead of wanting to rip out his throat—the one thing that Rey had always been told about being an alpha is that alphas _never_ share. Never. She had scars to prove this fact. Yet, here they were. But if her instincts weren’t marking Finn as a problem, she wasn’t going to worry about it. She had too many other things to do.

“Finn, get the blankets,” she ordered, rolling Kylo Ren onto his back in the middle of the floor and struggling with the fastenings on his trousers. She’d worry about his coat later—first things first.

The other alpha did as she asked, pulling the blankets out of the drawer under the bench and spreading them out on the floor next to her. 

In the meantime Rey had gotten Kylo Ren’s trousers loose enough to pull them down his hips, his erect cock springing out of its confines, his sweet scent filling the room, now unencumbered by his clothing. The scent was so much stronger here than it had been in the forest—not just Kylo Ren’s sweetness, but their combined aroma—the small room didn’t seem to be very well-filtered, and the strong scent was making it difficult to think. 

“Oh,” Finn said, staring down at them. “That’s… I _want_ it.” He quickly kicked off his boots and got to work on his own trousers. 

“Me too,” Rey said, tugging Kylo Ren’s trousers down to his knees. “Soon.” Unfortunately Kylo’s trousers were drenched with his slick, which made them so wet they stuck to his legs and it was proving very difficult to pull them any further than that. His boots were still on and she couldn’t be bothered to remove them yet, so the trousers were only going to get so far down, and Rey figured it was enough—they had access to the parts of him they needed access to, and once they’d knotted the first time they would be calm enough for a while to get the rest of his clothes off and get them more settled until they had to do it again.

“It hurts,” Kylo Ren moaned, reaching for Rey as she stood up to remove her own clothing. 

“Oh, baby,” she crooned, not quite believing it, and got back down on the ground so he could touch her hair while she struggled with her boots and breeches. She wanted her tunic off, too, her clothing was hot and made her itch. She needed to be naked, to feel Kylo’s skin against hers.

Finn was already fully naked, on his hands and knees, nuzzling at Kylo’s neck; apparently he’d finally caught on to what was going on. His presence helped to calm Kylo, too; he turned his head and the two men kissed sloppily, moaning and whining, so Rey could stand up to remove her tunic. By the time it was off, Finn was already rutting against Kylo’s backside and was reaching around towards his cock.

“Hey, no,” Rey chided him, pushing his hand away. “That’s for me.” He growled until he saw it was her, and he gave her another goofy grin. 

“We’re gonna do this,” Finn said, slurring his words like he’d been drinking too much Corellian brandy. “Kriff. I’m an alpha.”

“So am I,” she said, kicking off her breeches and revelling in the fact that she was finally, utterly naked. “And Kylo Ren is an omega.”

“ _Mine_ ,” Finn purred, nuzzling against Kylo’s neck again, while the man in question continued to sob and wriggle on the ground, his slick dampening the poor blankets, and smelling glorious. “He’s mine, and I’m gonna knot him.”

“No,” Rey growled, crouching on the floor and taking Finn’s chin in her hand, forcing him to look at her. “Not yours. Our omega. _Ours_.”

“Ours,” Finn echoed. “We’re gonna knot him together, aren’t we.”

“Yours,” Kylo moaned, writhing uselessly and turning his head back toward Finn for another kiss. “Please. Knot, _please_.”

There was something about the situation that Rey found immensely pleasing. Kylo Ren was a dangerous man, and he was physically imposing. He’d killed countless innocent people, and he’d killed his own father, and he was writhing on the ground coated in his own slick, weeping and begging for their knots.

Kylo Ren was Rey’s, and she was not about to tell him no.

“Come on,” she murmured, lying on her back and rolling him onto her, enjoying how his hard cock rested against her stomach as he nuzzled into her neck. “Let’s get you knotted, and then we can talk.”

He seemed to understand what was happening, or at least his body did; he whined and shifted down her body, seeking out her cunt with his cock in a manner that reminded Rey of a parched happabore seeking a watering hole. She grabbed his hips to help him move in the right direction, pausing when she glanced up to see Finn just standing there, staring down at them with his cock in his hand.

“Finn!” Rey growled, “it’s time to knot him. Get on your knees and get ready. We’ll do it together.”

Finn did as she instructed, straddling Kylo Ren’s legs and getting to his knees. 

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” he said, but then he spread Kylo Ren’s cheeks, said “Oh,” and laid his cock in the furrow, thrusting his hips to slick himself up. “Wait. No, I know.” He started to shake. “Kriff, can we do it now?”

She shifted her hips and the tip of Kylo Ren’s cock notched in her opening. It was warm and sweet and he whined deliciously into her neck as she tightened her hold on him. It was time.

“Finn, I—” Rey started, but he was one step ahead of her. He had definitely figured things out; he thrust into Kylo, and Kylo in turn thrust into Rey.

* * *

Kylo Ren had been dimly aware of what was happening. He’d known that he was in heat, and that he was with his Alphas, and he trusted them to take care of him. He’d never had that before, and he was overjoyed to have it now—the Scavenger, who was strong and demanding, and the Traitor, who was sweet and soft. The Traitor kissed Kylo, kissed his mouth and whispered sweetly in his ear, and Kylo Ren trusted him. Finn didn’t exactly trust Kylo in return, but that didn’t matter right now, he still wanted him - to kiss him, take care of him, knot him and ease his pain. Rey wanted - _needed_ \- to do those things, too, so she pulled down Kylo’s trousers and then she and Finn were naked. Kylo thought they both smelled _so good_ , and then the Traitor was behind him and the Scavenger was under him and everything happened so quickly and the next thing Kylo Ren knew, he was flying. 

Kylo Ren had his orgasm first, as soon as his cock hilted inside the Scavenger, and her own followed quickly, triggered by his cum. Rey yelled, the burst of pleasure taking her by surprise, and grabbed his hair as her knot swelled, gripping around the base of his cock and holding him tight inside her - for the first time in her life, she knew what it felt like to be home. Kylo whined into her shoulder and she couldn’t help but smile. Finn came with a grunt, his fingers digging into the soft skin of Kylo’s hips. The ring of Kylo’s muscle was tight and hot as Finn’s knot expanded and locked them together. He nosed at the back of Kylo’s neck - his hair was soft and he smelled so sweet, if Finn could have stopped time he would have. 

* * *

Kylo was full—more full than he’d ever been in his life—and he was surrounded by warmth. Warmth and softness and delicious scents that wrapped around him like a blanket keeping him safe from the nasty world that he knew existed outside of his cocoon. The Scavenger—Rey, her name was Rey—was beneath him, crying and holding his hair in her fists. He was inside her, and she was gripping him so he couldn’t move. She’d knotted him, a real knot, hot and hard around his cock. He couldn’t pull out of her, but he didn’t want to.

“Rey,” he whined, “Rey…”

“Hush,” she admonished him softly, squeezing her fists. “You’re here, with us. You’re safe.”

And Kylo Ren knew this was true.

The Traitor was there too—behind him, on top of him, inside him. His name was Finn, that’s what Rey called him so that was his name, and he’d knotted Kylo, too. His other Alpha—two alphas. How lucky he was to have two! It was strange, being held by knots of flesh and muscle instead of silicone and metal, like the ones the droids used to get him through his heat, but it was good—his Alphas were better, so much better than droids. Since they’d knotted him Rey had managed to loosen the top of his tunic, and they’d pulled down his collar to expose his neck. And that—that was the best. Their breath on his skin, their tongues on his glands, their voices sweet in his ear - telling him how they needed him, longed for him. How they would keep him safe. It was exactly what Kylo… Ben had been yearning for his whole life, what he’d desired. 

He had rarely felt safe in his life, or like he belonged. Neither had Rey, or Finn for that matter. All three of them had lonely childhoods, had been abandoned or hurt by the people who were supposed to love them, to take care of them. But in the moment the three of them came together, for the first time in their lives they felt true belonging. 

“Ben.”

“Hm?” Finn lifted his face from where he’d been lazily stroking his tongue across Kylo’s swollen scent gland, and Rey did the same on the other side of his neck.

“What was that? Kylo?”

“Ben,” he said again, his mind feeling clear for the first time in a very long time—years, even. He knew exactly what he wanted. “My name is Ben. Please call me Ben.”

Rey sighed with satisfaction and brought her legs up, hooking her ankles around Finn’s hips and pulling them both closer. Ben surprised himself by having another orgasm, and Rey released a quiet _oh_ of surprise when she came too, her knot tightening again around the base of his cock. Finn grunted, then chuckled and gave him another lick, making him shiver.

“We’ll call you whatever you’d like. By the way I’m Finn, and this is—”

“Rey, I know.” Ben buried his face into her neck, breathing in her salty dampness. “She smells like the ocean. And you smell like—”

“Something delicious,” Rey finished. “Something good to eat. I don’t even know what.”

“Air cake,” Ben said after a moment. “It’s a… kind of fruity thing. My dad used to make it back on Chandrila.” As soon as he said it Ben realized that his father was dead, that he’d killed him, that he would never, ever see him again and it was all his fault. He tensed up, ready to pull away even though he couldn’t, but his Alphas sensed his sorrow and together they held him tight.

“Ben,” Finn murmured, and Rey answered, “Ben,” and he calmed; his name on their tongues was everything he needed.

A few minutes later, after more kisses and licks and sweet whispers, Rey said his name again, but this time it sounded different. Concerned.

“Ben,” she said, looking at her hand, which had been stroking up and down his side, “you’re bleeding.”

“Chewie shot me with his bowcaster,” Ben said, remembering. The Wookiee had screamed from the landing and had shot him where he stood on the bridge, after watching him skewer his dad with his lightsaber and cast him down into the core of the planet.

“We need to fix you,” Finn said, a note of panic in his voice. “I don’t want you to bleed.”

“As soon as we can, we’ll take care of his wounds,” Rey crooned, running her clean hand through his hair. “We’ll take care of him, and we’ll help him fix himself.” Ben agreed that _yes_ , this is a good plan, and relaxed into her touch. Finn relaxed, too. 

They lied together for long minutes, their scents and the Force dancing around them, and Ben drifted off to sleep with the hands of his Alphas over his wound. The Force stayed with them, balanced—at least for a time. When they wake up the wound will be healed, it will be a new day, and they will face their new future together.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Hozier's _Would That I_
> 
> I'm pretty sure this is the first canonverse finnreylo ABO, and I hope it satisfies! Please drop a kudos and a comment if you enjoyed it. I'm also [on Twitter](https://twitter.com/flowerofcarrots) if you want to come say hi.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Fight That Calls](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23779831) by [Jessa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jessa/pseuds/Jessa)




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